PROFESSOR FLITWICK'S BAD DAY
by Silver Stockings
Summary: Lord Gobblygoop: 'She's updated again. And by the way,worship me, all' A Flitwick Fic! 'Professor Flitwick was tired of being short. Being short was tiring.' Read! Review! Riot! (Well, you don't have to riot.)
1. Being Short

Prof.Flitwick's Bad Day – A Flitwick Fic!  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Professor Flitwick was tired of being short.  
  
Being short was tiring.  
  
You had to stand on a pile of books to teach a class.  
  
You got knocked over when the wind blew at you.  
  
People laughed at you and thought you were funny.  
  
"No-one takes me seriously." He thought pitifully.  
  
Why, that very morning he had said, "Good morning Professor McGonagall!"  
  
And she had ended up on the floor, rolling around and laughing fit to burst.  
  
"Why are you laughing?" he asked.  
  
"I'm – I'm sorry Alganon but you're so tiny and – and you have such a cute little squeaky voice!"  
  
Grrrr.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Now, you must remember to say the incantation right!" Flitwick told his first-years.  
  
"Repeat after me – Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
"Wingardium Leviosa," they repeated dutifully.  
  
He beamed. "Off you go then!"  
  
He hopped off his pile of books and went around to the tables, watching them try out the incantation.  
  
"Wingaaaaaardium Leviooooosssa!" an over-enthusiastic girl called Stacy McPhee swung her wand around with gusto and hit the boy next to her on the nose.  
  
The feather in front of her remained stationary.  
  
"You said it wrong," he said, rubbing his nose.  
  
She glared. "If you're so clever, YOU do it!"  
  
"Fine." He swished and flicked his wand in the precise movement and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
The feather began to rise and hovered in mid-air.  
  
"Oh well done Mr Weasley!" Professor Flitwick cried.  
  
He wasn't really surprised – the boy was, after all, Hermione Weasley, neé Granger's son.  
  
A model student, just like his mother was, he thought fondly.  
  
Then he noticed that the boy was grinning in an evil sort of fashion at him.  
  
He saw him raise his wand.  
  
He realised what was going to happen when it was too late.  
  
"Wingardium Leviosa!" cried the model student's son, with a perfect swish and flick of wand.  
  
The wand was directed at Professor Flitwick.  
  
He felt himself rise. And rise. And rise.  
  
"Stop this at once!"  
  
But Bertram Weasley held him there, floating in mid air and shouted,  
  
"Hey everyone! Look at little Professor Flitwick!"  
  
The students laughed.  
  
The humiliation of it!  
  
Alganon Flitwick was already angry, but it was the 'little' that made him explode.  
  
"I – AM – NOT – SMALL – IN – SIZE!" he bellowed. Or he thought it was a bellow. It was really just an extremely loud, indignant squeak.  
  
"Roostaroola!"  
  
Betram Weasley was flung across the room, and the wand fell out of his hand. He then turned into a rooster.  
  
Professor Flitwick landed with a 'thud' on the classroom floor and stood up, rubbing his backside.  
  
The class gaped down at him.  
  
Betram Weasley gave a loud, unhappy crow.  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
Hagrid walked in.  
  
"Why are you in my class?" asked Professor Flitwick.  
  
"Why's there a rooster in yeh classroom?" countered Hagrid.  
  
"Erm, well, it's not really a rooster..." admitted Professor Flitwick.  
  
Hagrid looked at the rooster, which was pecking at Stacy McPhee.  
  
"It's a student. I turned him into one."  
  
Hagrid switched his gaze from the rooster to Professor Flitwick.  
  
"Eh? Summat for class, was it?"  
  
Professor Flitwick shook his head.  
  
"No, I just lost my temper."  
  
Hagrid's beetle-black eyes widened in alarm and he bent down to feel Professor Flitwick's forehead.  
  
Bent a long, long, long way down.  
  
"Yeh alright, Professor? Feelin' alright, are yeh?"  
  
"Of course. Why do you ask?" Professor Flitwick said with dignity.  
  
Hagrid shifted his huge feet uncomfortably.  
  
"Well, it's not like yeh to lose yeh temper. Yeh usually more cheerful, like."  
  
"Oh, I'm just having a bad day," Professor Flitwick said airily.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Professor Flitwick was extremely reluctant to change the boy back, but when Dumbledore convinced him that Hermione and Ron probably wouldn't be too thrilled to have a rooster for a son, he sulkily agreed.  
  
"Never ever make your teacher fly again without asking permission!" Admonished the headmaster when Bertram had been restored to his normal state.  
  
"It was funny," protested Bertram.  
  
"Maybe, but Professor Flitwick has been a little sensitive about his size as of late..."  
  
"Sensitive! Who's sensitive?" cried Professor Flitwick, who had been stamping around muttering to himself at the other end of the office.  
  
After Betram had left, Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles and looked at Prof.Flitwick in a kindly way.  
  
"Alganon, perhaps you should take a holiday..."  
  
"No, no, Dumbledore, I'm quite alright!" squeaked Flitwick, "I shall continue to teach without any of these sort of mishaps, never fear!"  
  
"Well....alright." Dumbledore said doubtfully.  
  
Professor Flitwick whistled on his way up the Charms corridor.  
  
He had a plan.  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
So what's Professor Flitwick's plan? Can he go through the day without turning anyone else into a rooster?  
  
All will be revealed as the tale unfolds!  
  
And reviews help me think better so press that wonderful little blue button there – that's the one.  
  
~EOTW~ 


	2. Testing Phase One

Thanks to the people who reviewed – those who didn't, please do so. It's really not that difficult.  
  
Oh yeah and y'all know I don't own anything, right? Of course you do – you're not stupid.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Oh the cleverness of me!" thought Professor Flitwick as he helped an extremely tall, extremely dull fifth year reverse the spell she had put on her bullfrog, which had caused it to accidentally come out in large orange spots.  
  
"Oh the cleverness of me!" he thought, as he passed tall Professor McGonagall in the corridor, (she had a hanky stuffed in her mouth and her shoulders were shaking.)  
  
"Oh the cleverness of me!" he said out loud, as he entered his own private office to carry out the splendiferous and wonderful plan he had so CLEVERLY hatched.  
  
It really was rather cunning, and almost as good as he thought it was.  
  
* * * * * * * * ***  
  
"Powdered hoof of Sifila....have I forgotten anything?" Professor Flitwick peered over the rim of his cauldron (his other one was too small and he needed lots of THIS particular potion.)  
  
No, it was turning a light mauve-grey, like it was supposed to.  
  
Professor Snape needn't think he was the ONLY one who could make good potions – tall as he was.  
  
"Okey-dokey, what next?" Professor Flitwick rubbed his hands and gave a little jump of excitement.  
  
According to 'Potions, Potions, and More Potions' he was supposed to recite the incantation after drinking a full goblet of the still-bubbling brew.  
  
He reached for a goblet, then stopped.  
  
A most unsettling thought had just occurred to him.  
  
Did they mean a full goblet for all persons regardless of size or was it only for persons that were, ahem, not exactly vertically challenged? (A/N Thanx for that Marissa Ann!)  
  
"Oh, piffle," he said out loud, "What does it matter? I'll tell you what it matters, Alganon Flitwick, your whole plan could backfire...why don't they have regulated amounts for persons of all heights?"  
  
The discrimination of it!  
  
Well, there was nothing he could do but take a test drive.  
  
Figuratively speaking, of course.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Here goes!" Professor Flitwick gulped down a full goblet and burped a little.  
  
"Excuse me." He looked down at 'Potions, Potions and More Potions':  
  
"Patience is a virtue, Virtue is a grace, Grace is a little girl, Who would not wash her face!"  
  
Had it worked? He wondered.  
  
Another test drive seemed to be in order. And it wasn't going to be a pleasant one.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Professor Snape?"  
  
Professor Flitwick swung his legs (he was on his desk, a more elevated position), and prepared himself for the ordeal to come.  
  
Professor Snape looked down at him with his usual sneer.  
  
"You sent for me, Alganon?"  
  
"Yes," squeaked Flitwick. "I want you to do something for me."  
  
Professor Snape raised a greasy eyebrow.  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
Professor Flitwick took a deep breath.  
  
"I want you to make fun of my – my below-average height."  
  
"What! Really?" Snape looked gleeful.  
  
You won't be looking like that for long, the smaller man opposite thought sourly.  
  
"Yes. Do go on."  
  
"With pleasure! Wait a minute..." Snape looked suspicious.  
  
"Are you planning to harm me in any manner if I do?"  
  
"What! Certainly not! I'm surprised at you, Severus, really I am." Squeaked Flitwick.  
  
"Just making sure, just making sure. Of course you wouldn't do anything like that. Not you."  
  
Professor Snape grinned in a horrible sort of way and began.  
  
"You, Alganon, are so puny that it is comical. You shouldn't be a teacher, but a court jester! I've heard they often hire such freaks to entertain sometimes. Do the students pat you on the head on their way out of class? Only you're so small...."  
  
And on and on it went.  
  
* * * * * * * * **  
  
"I THINK that's all the insults I can think of at the moment. Did I mention the fact that you could replace the pins at that Muggle game, tenpin bowling?"  
  
"Yes, I believe you did," Professor Flitwicksaid wearily. Two hours of listening to Snape insulting him was tiring.  
  
But he hadn't felt a single urge to turn him into a rooster!  
  
Success!  
  
"And that you should eat more spinach – it's growing food?"  
  
'YES Severus."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The first part of his brilliantly-brilliant plan was set.  
  
Now for the second part!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * CLIFFHANGER! Ha! I know! I'm evil!  
  
Know it was kinda short, but I'll try and update soon, promise.  
  
By the way, I'd like to say that I mean no discrimination against either short or tall persons in this story. I'd be a hypocrite in the tall person thing, as I am a tall person myself (no short people! Don't throw the rotten fruit at meeee!)  
  
It's just a story bout Prof. Flitwick, so don't fly off the handle at me OK?  
  
So yeah.  
  
Don't sit there staring. You know what to do. Starts with R, ends with W.  
  
Reeeviiieeeewww! (Please?)  
  
~EOTW~ 


	3. A Bad Little Wizard

Wotcher! Here's more Flitwick - hope you enjoy! (And review!)  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"And thirty-three." Professor Flitwick placed the last bottle of Patience In Potion inside his black Secret Cabinet and locked it.  
  
He then proceeded to hunt up the volume which would help him carry out the last part of his wonderful plan.  
  
It took him some time, as he had not actually looked at that particular book since he was seven years old.  
  
His aunt Ganeda had given it to him for his birthday. At that time hadn't been exactly pleased with it. He had wanted a book on how to Charm his sister's hair in her sleep to make it turn into hay.  
  
But his mother had told him not to complain, as aunt Ganeda 'was touchy about these things.'  
  
She didn't add 'and she is a rich old woman and you don't want to be left out in her will when she dies' but she didn't have to.  
  
He had been made to read it to Aunt Ganeda when she came to stay, cover to cover.  
  
It was a very long book, a 1000 pages.  
  
A thousand pages takes a very long time for a seven-year-old to read, especially if he has been forced to.  
  
He had stayed inside so long in Aunt Ganeda's dark, musty room reading that long book that it had stunted his growth and he had never grown since.  
  
And he had always been short for his age.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
"Ah, here we go!"  
  
Professor Flitwick blew off the very thick layer of dust that covered the worn, leather-bound volume and sneezed.  
  
Needless to say, he had never actually opened it since he was seven.  
  
Aunt Ganeda had insisted he take it to Hogwarts with him, and when he had come back to teach here.  
  
"You'll need it sometime, Alganon, I assure you."  
  
She had died soon after he had become a Charms teacher, and he had never yet used the book.  
  
But now -  
  
Dear old Aunt Ganeda!  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
The book was called 'The Book Of Morals- A Young Wizard's Guide On Being Good.'  
  
He seemed to remember that there had been a chapter -  
  
'Don't Make People Feel Small - Or You'll Be Small Yourself.'  
  
He sat down to read it.  
  
'Good Little Wizards should not make others feel small, in any way. If they do, providing the person they are ridiculing remembers the Rule Of Patience (see chapter 50, page 567, paragraph 34) and ignores them, the Good Little Wizard will turn into A Bad Little Wizard and Get His Comeuppance.  
  
There is an ancient magic that has long existed, even in the Muggle World, though the effects are not the same, and very few people know or believe that it is in existence.  
  
It protects the Good and punishes the Bad. If you are a Bad Little Wizard and you make others feel small, you will be punished by starting to be small yourself.  
  
The speed of the process differs with the nature of your ridiculing. If you are a Very Very Bad Little Wizard and you make a person feel Very Small, then the process will naturally be more rapid.  
  
So do not be a Bad Little Wizard and make others feel small - or you will be the small one in the end...'  
  
Tee hee. Thought Professor Flitwick.  
  
* * * * * * * **  
  
Oh the cleverness of him! All the people who ridiculed him were going to get their Comeuppance for sure! And he, for one, would make sure that the process would 'be more rapid.'  
  
"Betram Weasley is a Bad Little Wizard!" Flitwick said in a sing-song voice.  
  
He was not going to be merciful in this one.  
  
It would be their own fault anyhow!  
  
AND the best bit was:  
  
'We all know of the Magic of the Apology. If a Bad Little Wizard makes a most humble apology to the one he or she has offended, and has truly repented, then they can turn back into a Good Little Wizard. Of normal height.'  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Professor Snape smiled evilly to himself, as headed for the Dungeons after lunch.  
  
He had greatly enjoyed insulting Professor Flitwick on his miniscule height that morning.  
  
Making other people miserable was one of the few joys in Severus Snape's life. (A/N should we pity him that he has so few? Certainly not!)  
  
"A job well done," Snape commended himself.  
  
"Lowered his spirits. His self-esteem. Made him feel a tad SMALL you could say!"  
  
Snape chuckled at his own joke as he entered the dungeons.  
  
He had the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs. Good. He decided that he'd give them all a 'D' on their homework this time. He wished Hermione Granger's son was in this class.  
  
They were all looking at him strangely. Funny. The teachers at the staff table had been giving him that look as well.  
  
"Staring is not good manners. Five points off your houses for each of you."  
  
Now they were all looking horrified. Ha!  
  
"Weakening Solutions today! You will be required to test them on yourselves, before handing me up a sample!" he said gleefully.  
  
Stupid brats. THAT should make them all hazy for their next classes, with any luck.  
  
He put the instructions up on the board and proceeded to walk around the dungeons, swooping upon this student, or that one, just for the fun of tormenting them.  
  
"Miss Longbottom, what is THAT?" he pointed to the sludge-grey mess at the bottom of the girl's cauldron.  
  
"My potion," she replied defiantly.  
  
He didn't like her attitude. She was certainly nothing like her father when HE had been at school. Though she DID have his unfortunate ability, or rather, his lack of ability in potions.  
  
"That is not a potion, Miss Longbottom," he said coldly, "That is a waste of time and space. Get rid of it. You will have extra homework today as well as zero marks for your efforts."  
  
"That's not fair!" the girl exclaimed.  
  
"You used too much hair of kelpie - the instructions clearly tell you to -"  
  
"Clearly!" Melissa Longbottom said loudly, "That isn't clear! You can hardly read that writing!"  
  
"Ten points off Gryffindor, Miss Longbottom! For giving your opinion when it is not asked for. Now, kindly - "  
  
Melissa Longbottom, who seemed to have inherited her mother's bad temper, pulled out her wand and cried, "Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
Professor Snape's greasy black hair, which now revealed itself to be a toupee, flew off his head. He clutched after it, white to the lips with rage.  
  
"How dare you! Fifty points off Gryffindor! Detention! Detention!" he shrieked.  
  
The students, after a shocked silence, had dissolved into laughter which echoed around the dungeons and seemed to drive Snape insane.  
  
"Fifty points off all of you!" he screamed, and ran after his toupee, which Marissa Longbottom (who could hardly keep a hold on her wand for laughing), made whizz around in all directions.  
  
Before finally letting it drop onto the top of a tall stone shelf, in which there were several large glass jars with a number of disgusting slimy things floating about in them.  
  
The students by now were all on the floor, rolling around and holding their sides.  
  
Professor Snape was enraged. Now they all knew his so carefully guarded secret!  
  
"Prof - professor Snape's bald!" Juniper Finnigan choked.  
  
"BALD!" echoed her fellow students just as chokingly, with tears of laughter pouring down their cheeks.  
  
"Can't wait to tell - to tell James and Betram!"  
  
Snape was trying to reach his toupee, on top of the stone shelf.  
  
The funny thing was, he could have sworn, he had been able to reach up there only yesterday.  
  
He groaned as he stretched to the very tips of his toes to try and grab it.  
  
But he couldn't.  
  
"Having - having trouble Professor Snape?" Melissa wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.  
  
Finally Snape gave it up and used magic to bring the toupee down from the shelf.  
  
He crammed it onto his bald yellow head and glared at the students, breathing hard, his eyes flashing.  
  
"You, Miss Longbottom, are coming with me to the Headmaster's office!"  
  
Melissa stopped laughing.  
  
"The rest of you," Snape continued, "Are losing fifty points each off your houses!"  
  
The students gaped up at him in horrified silence.  
  
"And get off the floor!" he snarled.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
So what did you all think? Review and let me know, OK?  
  
By the way, I'm not going to be able to update for up to a week after this, just so you know. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!  
  
~EOTW~ 


	4. What Happened After

Thank you SOOOOOOO much to the people who reviewed! I really appreciate it. And the reviews were just bew-ti-ful! *sobs into hankerchief *. Oh, and I didn't realise that my 'will not accept anonymous reviewers' box was ticked. The lovely Gabriel4 alerted me to that, bless her. So a thousand apologies to those anonymous people who might've read this and wanted to review – but were prevented from doing so my silly ole me. Please review now.  
  
To Chess: Glad you think this little fic's funny. Yeah, poor little Flitwick. So young to be a runt. *wipes away tears. * You love Snape? I don't. I absoloutely loved making fun of him – hehehe. Hope u'll keep reviewing.  
  
To Gabriel4: Thanx for the great comments and advice. I know I whined like crazy last chapter and I was ashamed of it later. Thank you so much for alerting me to the fact that I didn't accept anonymous reviews. You're an angel (hehehe like the pun?) I cringe when people ask for a certain number of reviews in exchange for continuing a story – I'd never do that though. Whine as I did I mean to continue whether or not I get reviews! Will Flitwick's plan backfire? Wait and see my friend, wait and see...  
  
To gloredhel28: The name Alganon is not mentioned in JK's books. I wanted a first name for Flitwick so me and my sister came up with 'Alganon.' Do you like? Anyways, glad to hear from you and hope u'll keep reviewing!  
  
The Chocolate Frog: Thank ye for them kind words lady. Yeh warmed the cockles of this old author's heart. Well, I'm not really old but you get the idea....  
  
Traveling Pants: Will you really? Ooohh it's nice to think that I have that much power over my readers (just joking). Glad you like the story and I 'preciate those pretty compliments of yours.  
  
And FlamezFlyer and Marissa Ann, what happened to you guys?  
  
OK, now that I've expressed my gratitude....  
  
Here's more Flitwick!  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Melissa Longbottom looked curiously at Professor Flitwick as he passed her in the Charms corridor, whistling happily.  
  
"Good afternoon, Miss Longbottom!"  
  
She liked him the most out of all her teachers, though she wasn't very good at Charms. She shared her father's passion for Herbology, but she didn't exactly admire Professor Frommage, the French Herbology teacher. Professor Sprout, the teacher who had taught Herbology in her father's days at Hogwarts, had retired.  
  
Professor Flitwick had always seemed so – so cheerful and nice and good- natured. He was tolerant of the various pranks she liked to pull in class. He had a sense of humor.  
  
Except, it seemed, when students decided to levitate him in mid-air.  
  
She thought that Betram really had gone too far on that one. After all, there was such things as dignity.  
  
How can you talk! she told herself, didn't you expose Snape's, ahem, unfortunate lack of hair growth?  
  
She giggled in spite of herself. She knew she had gotten her fellow classmates into loads of trouble and all...but it was hard to feel sorry for doing what she did when she remembered all the times Snape had humiliated HER in front of the class.  
  
"It was worth losing the points," James Potter had told her, snorting with laughter, "I'd give a hundred Galleons to see Snape running around trying to catch his wig – and to see his face when it flew off!."  
  
"Is there something you find amusing, Miss Longbottom?" Professor Flitwick had paused and turned to look at her.  
  
"No – nothing Professor!" she hastened to say. "At least, nothing about you."  
  
She didn't really fancy the idea of being turned into a rooster.  
  
He smiled.  
  
"Don't worry!" he squeaked, "I'm not going to lose my temper again! I was just having a bad day."  
  
"Well, Professor Snape just had a – well, a bad HAIR day, you could call it," chortled Melissa, and stopped.  
  
But he chuckled as well.  
  
"Yes, I heard about that, er, unfortunate incident. So poor Severus is bald. Such a shame." He didn't sound particularly sad. "I expect he was livid?"  
  
"Oh yes," Melissa nodded seriously, "He took fifty points off all of us and took me to the headmaster. He wanted Dumbledore – I mean, Professor Dumbledore to expell me, he was so angry."  
  
"But I take it he didn't?" Professor Flitwick's eyes twinkled.  
  
Melissa grinned. "No. He said that he thought fifty house points was enough. After all, I hadn't actually MEANT to take his wig off! And he also said that he thought Professor Snape should learn to accept his baldness and not wear the toupee!"  
  
"And what did Severus say to that?" Flitwick was obviously enjoying what he was hearing.  
  
"He scowled and said he wanted all our memories modified. Then Dumbledore said he was being silly and that he shouldn't let children get to him like that! But I think he's more annoyed because it's us who found out then if it had been a teacher!" Matilda finished, laughing.  
  
Flitwick joined in. "I should think he would be!"  
  
Then Melissa thought of something.  
  
"You know, Professor, a strange thing happened down in the dungeons. Besides finding out that Professor Snape's bald, I mean. "  
  
"And what was that, my dear?" Flitwick inquired, peering avidly up at her.  
  
"Well, when I took the toupee off, it flew around for a bit, then landed ontop of a stone shelf. You know, the ones with those jars full of horrible slimy things in them?"  
  
Prof. Flitwick's shudder told her he knew.  
  
"Then," Melissa went on, "Professor Snape tried to reach for it. And he couldn't. It's funny, because he's so tall. He tried and tried and couldn't reach." It had been quite amusing, actually.  
  
"And there was something weird about him as well, when he came in. He looked...shorter."  
  
Professor Flitwick gave a sudden little jump of glee. Melissa looked at him, and he coughed.  
  
"Do go on. Don't mind me."  
  
Melissa spread her hands and shrugged.  
  
"I don't know. It was just weird." She looked at her watch and yelped.  
  
"I'm going to be late for Transfiguration! Bye, Professor!"  
  
She hurried around a corner and out of sight.  
  
If she'd paused to look over her shoulder, she would have seen Alganon Flitwick dancing a very un-teacherish war-dance of triumph next to a painting of the Lady Florena, while the lady in question looked disapprovingly down at him from under her lace cap.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
It was working! It was working! It was working!  
  
Now Professor Flitwick didn't normally gloat. But this was too good an opportunity to miss.  
  
So he danced around his cauldron twice, looking for all the world like that scheming dwarf Rumpelstiltskin – in fact, Rumpel may have been an ancestor of Flitwick's.  
  
"Revenge is sweet," he said happily. "I never knew just how sweet it could be!"  
  
There was a sharp, loud knock on the door of his office, that made him jump.  
  
Over his many years at Hogwarts he had learned to recognize knocks. The soft, hesitant knock of a student. The brisk tap of Minerva McGonagall. The sharp, loud, unrelenting knock of Severus Snape.  
  
"Come in," called Professor Flitwick, hopping onto his desk and looking expectant. Though it was an entirely unconscious act, he normally sat on his desk whenever Snape paid him a visit so as to boost his height and self- esteem.  
  
The door was flung open, and Severus Snape stood there, tall and imposing, eyes flashing and mouth pulled into a hard line of anger.  
  
He also had hair.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
For a moment Flitwick wondered whether grim-faced colleague had found out his great plan. Though how he could've was mind-boggling.  
  
Then Snape said, sneering, "I require your assistance, Alganon."  
  
Professor Flitwick gave an inward sigh of relief.  
  
"Certainly, Severus. What can I do for you?"  
  
Snape opened his mouth, then closed it. Opened it again, and closed it again. When he finally spoke, it was with difficulty and as if each word cost him Galleons.  
  
"You – have – heard – of – a – recent – mishap – that - occurred – in – my – classroom?"  
  
"A mishap?" Flitwick said politely, swinging his legs. He knew exactly what Snape was talking about, but he couldn't help enjoying his discomfort.  
  
"Yes," Snape said jerkily, "A – Gryffindor student. Melissa Longbottom. Played – a – nasty – trick – on – me."  
  
"Oh, THAT mishap," Flitwick said, as if he had heard of about a dozen that day.  
  
"Yes. Charms are – your field of expertise. I was wondering – if you, that is – if you could – give me a Permanent Sticking Charm."  
  
"And what would you be needing it for?"  
  
Snape gritted his teeth.  
  
"To – to keep my – my – toupee in place. Permanently."  
  
"Why, of course I will!" Flitwick jumped off the desk, and turned to his shelf, glad to conceal his grin from Snape's eyes.  
  
He pulled a small purple silk packet out of a green box and presented it to Snape.  
  
"Thank you." Snape said coldly. Then, as if needing to gather up his lost dignity, he said:  
  
"That shelf is rather low, isn't it Alganon? Of course, you need it that way."  
  
Professor Flitwick surveyed his colleague calmly.  
  
"Of course I do."  
  
Then Snape said a strange thing.  
  
"Is this magic?" he waved the purple packet.  
  
Professor Flitwick blinked.  
  
"Of course it is."  
  
Snape shook himself and repeated, "Of course it is."  
  
Then he swept out of the room without even saying thank you.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Lord Gobblygoop was bored. He had also eaten a whole box of Chameleon's Best Liquor Chocolates. One of his Death Bandits had carelessly given him a box for his birthday.  
  
The days of Lord Voldemort were long over. This was the time of Lord Gobblygoop – famously evil, people screaming with fear whenever they heard his name, the whole world trembling at his feet.  
  
In his dreams anyway.  
  
In reality, he had about five Death Bandits as supporters, worked at Madame Malkin's, could barely do a Summoning Charm, and had no girlfriend.  
  
It was a tough life.  
  
But that was all going to change!  
  
Lord Gobblygoop sat up, his bloodshot eyes wide and bulging slightly.  
  
It was time for him to make his debut as a Famously Evil Dark Lord.  
  
"Roo-dolf!" he grunted.  
  
A small, monkey-faced little man hopped into the room.  
  
"I have a plan for my debut as a Famously Evil Dark Lord!" Lord Gobblygoop told him.  
  
"Oh, very good sir!" chirped the little man.  
  
"I need a map."  
  
"Oh very good sir!" the little man ran and fetched a map.  
  
Lord Gobblygoop leaned over it, muttering inanely. Finally he poked a spot.  
  
"THAT'S where I'm going to do it!" he announced.  
  
"Oh, very good sir!"  
  
"Shut up!" roared his master.  
  
"Oh very good sir!"  
  
Lord Gobblygoop lurched across at Roo-dolf, trying to throttle him.  
  
"I'm going to strangle you till you're purple and blue!"  
  
"Oh, very good sir!"  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Voila! By the by, school's started which means....you guessed it....HOMEWORK. Therefore I won't be able to update real quickly.  
  
By the by again, I have a new nickname! Silver Stockings is my name and – er – writing fan fictions is my game! Yeah, that sounds good!  
  
Dumdahdumdum.  
  
What are you guys waiting for?  
  
REVIEWS RULE! YEAH!  
  
~ S.S~ 


	5. Author's Note

Dear Readers Of Flitwick;  
  
I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE THINKING.  
  
You think this here Author's Note exists for the purpose of telling you that I am no longer continuing the story, and am giving it up.  
  
YOU ARE WRONG.  
  
I've no intention of discontinuing Flitwick. Imagine how hurt he would be!  
  
And Lord Gobblygoop would be extremely cross that he didn't get a chance to launch a reign of terror. "Where does that leave me?" he'd say.  
  
No, no, the tale will go on, I assure you.  
  
The reason I haven't updated for so long, is partly because of school. It's really cruel the way they give you so much work, and I had some really ghastly projects, and reports, and maths tests, and what have you.  
  
But I'm not blaming the entire thing on school.  
  
It's also partly (alright, mostly) because of a disease that I thought I would never develop, but am currently suffering from.  
  
THE DREADED WRITER'S BLOCK. Yes.  
  
All you fellow authors know what I mean, so shudder appropriately. And the BIGGEST problem is, that I happen to be suffering writer's block ONLY where Flitwick is concerned.  
  
I've had a MULTITUDE of ideas for stories and fanfictions, and it's driving me mad.  
  
It's torture not being able to write because I owe it to Flitwick, and of course, you lovely reviewers, to focus solely on him.  
  
But don't get me wrong. I really, really want to continue. And I will. I will.  
  
Really.  
  
So, basically, I want to apologize for not updating for millions of years, and can only hope you understand my predicament, and won't give up reading entirely – because I'm going to keep going.  
  
FORTUNATELY, WRITER'S BLOCK IS NOT A PERMANENT DISEASE.  
  
Ye gods and men! * Puts hands into hair * Who'd be an author!  
  
~ S.S~ 


	6. In Which Things Are A Tad Strange

I'm back, people! Back from the dead – or, rather, from the Land Of Writers Who Have Writer's Block. It's been simply AGES, hasn't it?  
  
Ah, well, 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' they say.  
  
A great big Thank You to everyone who reviewed; very spiffing of you.  
  
And so, without further ado, may I present chapter 5!  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
"It was your fault." Melissa Longbottom told Betram firmly.  
  
He scowled. "MY fault? Who was the one that wanted to duel Nasturnia Malfoy in the dead of the night in the first place?"  
  
"If you two hadn't insisted on coming with me...."  
  
"You would've been caught anyway," James pointed out.  
  
"Yeah, it was a set up."  
  
Melissa screwed up her nose. "That Nasturnia is such a slimy, snaky, oily, greasy....person. And how unoriginal. Copying her father's dirty tricks."  
  
"It's funny, isn't it? It was McGonagall what caught Mum and Dad, and James' Dad, and your Dad, Mel, as well. It's like history repeating itself." Betram said, chewing his lower lip.  
  
"Except old Voldemort isn't around anymore." James said.  
  
"So there's not going to be any funny stuff happening around Hogwarts," Melissa added gloomily.  
  
"Some people have all the luck."  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
"Here, girl."  
  
Professor Snape bent and picked up 'The Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 1', handing it back to its astonished owner, who stammered out a 'thank you' before scuttling down the corridor, clutching the heavy volume.  
  
"Severus?" Minerva McGonagall had seen the whole thing. Professor Snape had been nice to a first year, and a Gryffindor at that.  
  
Severus wasn't nice. Why, only a couple of days ago, he had made a scrawny, short little Hufflepuff first year positively quake in his shoes, as he was told quite eloquently what would be done to him, if ever saw fit to accidentally walk into the depths of the Potions Master's cloak again.  
  
"Minerva?" Snape raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Er..." she bit her lip. "Nothing."  
  
He nodded and continued on his way, his cloak billowing out behind him.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
"WILL you two shut it?" James said wearily.  
  
His two companions paused for breath in the midst of their squabbling.  
  
"Well, she started it." Betram said churlishly.  
  
"HOW childish." Melissa stuck her nose in the air.  
  
"Get over yourselves," James advised, "Or we'll be late, and McGonagall won't like it. And you're giving me a headache."  
  
They stopped, but continued to mutter at each other and by the time they reached McGonagall's office, James had himself one fine headache.  
  
Professor McGonagall, surprisingly, didn't tell them off for being late at all. In fact, she didn't even seem to be angry with them.  
  
"Good little witches don't lose their tempers." She said.  
  
They glanced at each other, uneasy. It was rather weird to hear McGonagall say something like that.  
  
"You'll all get detentions tonight after dinner," she went on, "And in those detentions, you must all write 'I will be a good little wizard' out fifty times. Why are you looking at me like that, Potter?"  
  
James looked away.  
  
"That's a good little wizard, Perkins. I mean, Potter."  
  
"Good little wizards!" Melissa sounded revolted as they left the office.  
  
"It was sickening." Betram said decidedly.  
  
"Really weird." James said fervently. 'McGonagall never talks like that!"  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Professor Flitwick felt increasingly hyper as he entered the Great Hall for dinner. Once at his usual place at the staff table, he surveyed the students below in satisfaction, the Slytherin table in particular.  
  
I hope that Draco Malfoy taunts me about my height some time soon, he thought. Though he's already a little runt without getting any shorter.  
  
Many people would probably have been quite shocked if they knew that Professor Flitwick had thoughts like this. As far back as any of the teachers could remember, he had never said a rude or mean thing to anyone.  
  
I wonder what they'd think, he reflected now, if they knew that I say 'damn' in my head sometimes.  
  
"Good little wizards are always polite."  
  
Flitwick was jerked out of his thoughts by Severus Snape's voice.  
  
He looked around and gaped.  
  
"WHAT did you just say, Severus?"  
  
Snape smiled amiably. Snape didn't smile amiably! Cruelly, maliciously, smugly, yes, but.... amiably!  
  
"I said, that good little wizards are always polite. You see, Alganon, I was talking about a boy scout group I was in when I was a child. They were called the Good Little Wizards. Cute, eh?"  
  
Flitwick nearly fell off his chair. I say 'nearly' because Snape caught him just in time.  
  
Which made him promptly fall over again.  
  
"Dear, dear, Alganon," Snape shook his head, a hint of his normal malice in voice and smile, "You ARE getting clumsy."  
  
"Thank goodness!" Flitwick said to him.  
  
Snape frowned. "What?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing Severus. Please do go on." Flitwick said politely.  
  
Snape's frown deepened. "Go on doing what?"  
  
"Go on commenting on my clumsiness," Flitwick explained.  
  
"THAT would be rude," Snape told him haughtily. "And Good Little Wizards are NEVER rude."  
  
Now Flitwick felt distinctly uneasy. Professor McGonagall joined in the conversation.  
  
"Speaking of Little Wizards, I know some very baaaaad ones!"  
  
"Oh?" Snape swung around to face her. "Who?"  
  
McGonagall took a quick sip of her pumpkin juice.  
  
"Oh, Melissa Longbottom, Betram Weasley, and James Potter. They were prowling around last night in the corridors. I gave them detentions, for tonight."  
  
Snape sighed. "Following in their parents' footsteps."  
  
"Did you take House points off them?" Flitwick asked McGonagall.  
  
"No," she said airily. "The main thing here, you see, Flitwick, is to ensure that they remember that they must be Good. I've made them do lines, like in Muggle schools."  
  
She suddenly snorted into her goblet.  
  
"What?" Flitwick asked.  
  
"It's just....your legs," she choked.  
  
He looked down at them. He looked up at her.  
  
"You have legs too, Minerva." He pointed out.  
  
"Yes...but yours don't reach the ground!" she snorted.  
  
Did I take another dose of that Patience In Potion? Flitwick thought. Yes, I did. That's all good then.  
  
He watched her lift her face up, her nose dripping with pumpkin juice.  
  
Her eyes widened, and went oddly glazed.  
  
"But that's not right. I am a Good Little Witch! Bad Minerva. Very Bad."  
  
"What did you say?" Flitwick was alarmed now.  
  
Her eyes lost the glazed look.  
  
"What do you mean, what did I say?" she snapped, quite in her normal voice. As if she hadn't said what she had just said.  
  
Flitwick shook his head.  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
Lord Gobblygoop summoned his five Death Bandits. The way he summoned them was by using a Summoning Charm.  
  
They all came flying through the windows of his flat, and crash-landed on the floor in a rumpled, flushed heap at his feet.  
  
He looked down at them smugly. "That's right. Grovel."  
  
"The Muggles might have seen us!" gasped out one of them, wiping his brow, which was perspiring heavily.  
  
Lord Gobblygoop had forgotten about that, but he pretended that he hadn't.  
  
"Nonsense," he said grandly. "I got it all covered. No sweat."  
  
"How?" asked another.  
  
His master opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.  
  
"Ummmmm. Don't ask questions! In fact, NEVER question me again!" he snapped.  
  
"Rise, my faithful Death Bandits."  
  
They rose, smoothing their robes and hair. They were a sorry bunch. An untalented, bedraggled lot. They had all been stupid enough to join with Lord Gobblygoop, and were too stupid now to realise that they could just as easily un-join with him.  
  
"I," announced Lord Gobblygoop. "Am about to launch my career as a Famously Evil Dark Lord." He swept out his arms, and waited for the gasps of awe to follow.  
  
No gasps of awe. They all simply stared at him.  
  
He scowled. "I'm going to TAKE OVER THE WORLD?"  
  
They all gasped with awe.  
  
"And you lot are going to help me!" he shouted.  
  
They shifted their feet uncomfortably.  
  
"Erm....we are?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Do we have to?"  
  
"I have plans for this weekend...."  
  
"I have to go to the toilet." That last remark was from Bilius Bibblehead, who was the stupidest of all of them.  
  
Lord Gobblygoop's eyes bulged.  
  
"You DARE to refuse me? If you do, you know what will happen!"  
  
"No we don't," they said.  
  
True. He had never told them what would happen because he didn't know himself.  
  
"Well...well... it'll be very baaad, I promise you! Now! The place I'm planning to debut my Famous Evil is..." he cleared his throat.  
  
"...HOGWARTS."  
  
They all gasped again, except for Bilius Bibblehead who coughed and went rather pink.  
  
"I...I think I wet my pants."  
  
* * * * * * * * *******  
  
Ah, but it's good to be back in the real world again!  
  
By the way, I know now, thanks to 'Eihwaz and Lourdaise', that Flitwick's real first name is Filius. I love it, but I'm not gonna bother changing the 'Alganon'. He'll stay Alganon in this story.  
  
And no, (also to 'Eihwaz and Lourdaise') , I have never read Kaye Umansky in my whole life. Never even heard of him.  
  
Our styles are similar? What has he written?  
  
So. Sooo. Soooooooooooooooooo.  
  
REVIEW PLEASE. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE.  
  
~ Silver Stockings ~ (Newly Resurrected.) 


	7. Various Musings & Death Bandits

Hehehehe me thought Kaye Umansky was a man. Me stupid.  
  
Me also write next chapter to Professor Flitwick's Bad Day!  
  
Me want to know what you think.  
  
In other words...review!  
  
(And many thanks to Eihwaz and Lourdaise, Chess, FlamezFlyer, Mae-Yean, Antonia East, and especially to Ash Vault Rose Garden, who reviewed six times!)  
****

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Melissa Longbottom did not like lines. They were boring. Her companions did not appear to like them either.  
  
"I..will...be...a...good...little...wizard..." Bertram was muttering, his forehead almost touching the paper as he wrote.  
  
Melissa giggled.  
  
"You sound like a dumb troll."  
  
"All trolls are dumb." James had turned to look at her.  
  
"A_ particularly_ dumb one then." Melissa replied.  
  
Bertram paused, his pen poised.  
  
"Are you talking about me?"  
  
"No, Bertram," Melissa grinned. "We're talking about the troll behind you."  
  
Predictably, Bertram jerked his head around.  
  
"WHAT troll?"  
  
Both his friends snorted.  
  
He scowled. "This is BORING." He threw his quill down.  
  
"It's not just boring - it's WEIRD." Melissa leaned her chin on her hands.  
  
"How strange was McGonagall acting back in her office? I mean, normally she'd be making us clean out bedpans in the hospital wing without magic, or dust the trophies in the trophy room or something. Instead it's lines."  
  
"You'd rather clean out bedpans?" James raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You know what I mean. And she's not the only one. There's Snape. Juniper said that he bumped into her a little while before dinner, and he said....SORRY."  
  
Bertram gasped. James' other eyebrow went up.  
  
Professor Snape, saying sorry?  
  
"And," Melissa went on, "He said something about Good Little Wizards as well."  
  
"What's all this 'Good Little Wizards' stuff all about anyway?" Bertram asked. "I mean, why 'Good Little Wizards?'  
  
"No idea." James stared hard at the piece of parchment on the desk in front of him.  
  
"You two finished?"  
  
"Nope," Bertram replied. "I need a drink. I can't write anymore without a drink."  
  
"Well, fancy McGonagall not leaving us a jug of pumpkin juice! HOW thoughtless of her! And where are the turkey sandwiches? This IS detention, after all!" Melissa said sarcastically.  
  
Bertram scowled.

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Professor Flitwick was pacing.  
  
He was also very deep in thought.  
  
What he was thinking very deeply about was the conversation he had had with Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall at dinner.  
  
What on Earth, he thought, was that rubbish about Severus being in a Boy Scout group called the Good Little Wizards?  
  
Yet it rang a bell.  
  
He paced some more, still thinking. The Book Of Morals, given to him by long-dead Aunt Ganeda. It certainly talked a lot about Good Little Wizards.  
  
Was it just a coincidence that that maddening term had been mentioned more than once at the High Table?  
  
Good Little Wizards. Good Little Wizards. How Aunt Ganeda used to rabble on about them!  
  
"Alganon, you mustn't be greedy - Good Little Wizards are generous."  
  
"Alganon, I wish you'd improve your manners. You are really the Baddest Little Wizard I have ever seen......"  
  
Alganon Flitwick stopped pacing. He looked horrified.  
  
No, he thought. It can't be. It can't.  
  
But it could. And it was.  
  
He headed towards the door. Dumbledore. Dumbledore will help me figure this out, he thought.

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

"Alright." Bertram announced. "I am absoloutely dying of thirst now. You'll have to drag my wasted body out of here. McGonagall will be eaten up by guilt."  
  
His friends ignored him. They were busy doing nothing.  
  
Lines had been finished long ago. When was McGonagall going to come and let them out?  
  
Melissa kicked out moodily and hit her foot on the desk leg.  
  
"Ow. This STUPID. Where is she? Has she forgotten all about us?"  
  
"I don't know," James said gloomily. "She's not the type to forget stuff like that."  
  
"Maybe she's getting old. What is it, nearly a hundred now? And I'm thirsty." Bertram added.  
  
Just then, they heard footsteps.  
  
Bertram leaped out of his chair.  
  
"Yay! Freedom! Pumpkin juice!"  
  
There was the sound of a key turning in the lock.  
  
Then the door creaked open. Severus Snape stuck his greasy head into the room.  
  
Melissa covered her mouth to stifle giggles. She couldn't help it.  
  
That toupee!

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Albus Dumbledore was bewildered. For the first time in his life, he was bewildered.  
  
Things had suddenly gotten just a tad strange.  
  
Minerva and Severus had just come to see him in his office. He had thought Severus was going to complain about that issue with Melissa Longbottom and the toupee again.  
  
But no.  
  
Instead, they had both requested that the teachers hold an emergency staff meeting. Right now.  
  
And the reason they wanted to hold this staff meeting?  
  
"We want to discuss forming a Good Little Wizards workshop for the students." Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall!

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Lord Gobblygoop wasn't the best at game plans. Even he admitted that.  
  
It took a really intelligent person to come up with a fool-proof plan to break into Hogwarts.

Lord Gobblygoop was not intelligent.  
  
This he did not admit.  
  
"My faithful Death Bandits!" he boomed.  
  
None of them were listening. A couple had switched on the television set and were watching their favourite Muggle show – 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire."  
  
Yesterday's Daily Prophet had said that the latest contestant, who called herself Miriam Budgee, was really the famous celebrity witch Liesa the Wartkiller in disguise.  
  
Rumour had it that she was using the Confundus Charm on the host Eddie Murphy to bamboozle him into thinking that she was right on every question.  
  
"Cor, but she's a good looker," Marcus Hazy said admiringly.  
  
"I wish _I _was a Wartkiller," Lucy Boppins sighed with envy.  
  
She fingered the big wart she had on her nose, as a result of a previous attempt to rid herself of a giant boil.  
  
Which was the result of ANOTHER previous attempt to rid herself of a pimple.  
  
Which was the result of yet another previous attempt to rid herself of her freckles. Which was....  
  
You get the idea.  
  
Bilius Bibblehead had taken off his trousers and underpants and was washing them in a large tub, humming merrily as he went.  
  
He had also taken off his robes, and his cloak, and his hat, and was sitting in nothing but his undershirt.  
  
It had not yet occurred to him that it was only his trousers and underpants that had been wetted by his need to visit the toilet.  
  
Lord Gobblygoop was not pleased. They should be hanging on his every word! He was their Famously Evil leader, after all.  
  
"LISTEN TO ME!" he bellowed. "I am TRYING to TALK!"  
  
"Ssshhh," said Marcus Haze. "The Wartkiller's on a roll!"  
  
"I wish _I _was a Wartkiller," said Lucy Boppins again, fingering the wart on her nose which was the result of a previous....etc etc.  
  
"The maid was in the garden, hanging up the clothes...." Sang Bilius Bibblehead, wringing out his trousers in an expert sort of fashion.  
  
"BILIUS!" Lord Gobblygoop shrieked. "WHAT are you DOING??"  
  
Bilius Bibblehead wiped the soapsuds off his glasses and looked surprised.  
  
"It's washing day," he said.  
  
"And WHERE are the Hopple twins?" Lord Gobblygoop wailed.  
  
Just then the said Hopple twins appeared at the doorway of the living room.  
  
They were covered head to toe with ice cream, and whipped cream and coffee cream and various other creams... including the non-edible ones.  
  
"Vaseline, anyone?" said Girl Hopple.  
  
"Actually, there's none left," said Boy Hopple.  
  
Lord Gobblygoop covered his face with his hands.  
  
"What about my Famously Evil debut?" he whined.  
  
"There, there," Bilius Bibblehead said soothingly. "Time heals all wounds."  
  
"WHAT??" said Lord Gobblygoop.  
  
"Rainbow at night, Shepherd's delight!" sang the Hopple twins.  
  
"Sssshhhh all of you!" Marcus Haze glared at them.  
  
"The Wartkiller's on a hundred thousand! Or is it a hundred million? How many zeroes in a million?"  
  
"I wish _I_ was a Wartkiller," said Lucy Boppins.

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**[Chucks empty Vaseline jars at reviewers ]**  
  
Excuse me. I'm just a bit hyper after writing that last part.  
  
I absoloutely LOVE writing Lord Gobblygoop and the Death Bandits!  
  
I hope you liked them too!  
  
Oh, by the way, I know I didn't update very soon THIS time either, but wouldn't you know it, as soon as I got over Writer's Block, our internet connection decided to take a Snooze pill.  
  
And I was just a teensy bit lazy. Forgive me! Also, sorry for the weird exclamation marks. Fanfic.net doesn't do asterixes anymore, for some reason.   
  
Also, I know that some of you were curious about Melissa and James's parentage.  
  
I'll probably make it known to you sometime later in the story, so stay tuned!  
  
AND NOW, GUESS WHAT? I'M GOING TO ASK YOU TO....REVIEW!  
  
And, being the lovely people you are, you'll do that, right? Good-O!  
  
Now I really must be saying goodbye. Goodbye!  
  
**[throws last Vaseline jar and disappears in a puff of green smoke]**


	8. Confessions And Other Scary Things

Well, well well! Here I am again, back with a new chapter. I finally wrote it.

"Took you long enough!" wail the cast of "Flitwick." They thought I'd forgotten them, poor dears.

I haven't. I just couldn't be bothered to write chapter seven and post it till now, is all. Lack of inspiration, I guess.

Very well. Take your places, Death Bandits. Just a _leetle _to the left, Lord Gobblygoop. Be- ew-ti-ful. Now let me just dump little Professor Flitwick where he's supposed to be and we can get on with the story.

He's being a bit difficult, see. He's threatening to turn me into a rooster.

UNLIKELY dear Flitwick – it is I who wields the pen!

"Oh yes," he says sulkily. "I forgot. When do I get a go?"

"Uhhhh....never?"

He mutters something that sounds remarkably like "stupid author person". Imagine that.

There, he's finally in place like the Good Little Wizard he is.

We can get on with the story now.

(Note: I am not going mad. I swear it. No, really. BELIEVE me!)

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Albus Dumbledore was bewildered. Again. Alganon Flitwick had just come charging into his office, shortly after Severus and Minerva had left it.

"Dumbledore!" he wailed. "Oh, Dumbledore, what have I _done_? WHAT have I DONE? WHAT have _I _DONE? What _have _I -"

"I don't exactly know yet," Dumbledore cut him short, kindly.

Flitwick was clearly upset.

"You see, Alganon, you haven't actually told me."

His much-distressed colleague paused in the middle of his outburst to consider that.

"You're right," he sighed. "I haven't. But, Dumbledore....what have I DONE?"

"What indeed?" Dumbledore was getting impatient.

Flitwick hung his head.

"Oh my vanity, my cursed vanity," he said miserably. "It if it wasn't for that IT wouldn't have happened. And if IT hadn't happened, THAT wouldn't have happened. And if THAT hadn't happened THEY wouldn't have happened....to be like that. And if THEY hadn't... why, NOTHING WOULD HAVE HAPPENED."

Dumbledore tried to follow this, and concluded that he had no idea what Flitwick was talking about.

"Flitwick, I have no idea what you are talking about. TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED."

"Well," Professor Flitwick said. "I think we should sit, Dumbledore. You see, quite a lot needs to be explained....."

So they sat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Professor Snape," Melissa said. "Are you.... feeling alright?"

She and her companions had been feeling quite worried for awhile now.

You see, Professor Snape was...humming. He wasn't trying to curse Melissa into oblivion or anything. He was just...

Humming.

The tune wasn't one that Melissa recognized.

"Me?" Severus Snape sounded cheerful. "I'm feeling fine!"

"Then why are you and Professor McGonagall acting like best buddies?" Bertram asked. Melissa stomped his foot.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You are TACTLESS," she whispered.

"At least I'm not BRAINLESS," he retorted.

"Oh, _witty_, really _witty_." Melissa said in her most scathing manner.

Then she ruined it by whispering,

"I'm FRECKLE-LESS too, Bertram!"

He turned as red as his hair.

"I noticed the absence of freckles doesn't mean you have the ability to do a Summoning Charm!"

"Shut up!" James said loudly.

"Potter!" McGonagall had turned to him.

James bit his lip, waiting for her to explode at him.

Instead she said, "How would you like join our Good Little Wizards workshop?"

James's venerable brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Severus and I had the idea," she added, by way of explanation.

Snape nodded, in what James supposed was meant to be an encouraging manner, grinning broadly and showing pointy yellowish teeth.

"Erm..." James began and stopped.

"Actually," Snape said. "You should ALL join us!"

"Erm...." Said Melissa, and stopped.

"Erm...." Said Bertram, and scratched his nose.

"Picking your nose isn't good manners!" Professor McGonagall said reprovingly.

"Remember, you're a Good Little Wizard!" Snape added.

"I wasn't picking..." Bertram began hotly, but Snape went on as if he hadn't heard him.

"Minerva, I've been thinking. Our school song really isn't appropriate to our aims and aspirations...."

"And what might they be?" Bertram asked.

"...So I've thought of a far better one!" Snape said brightly.

"Why is everyone ignoring me today?" Bertram said sulkily.

"Because you're a Bad Little Wizard!" Melissa said.

Her friends gaped at her, horrified.

"Why did I just say that?!" Melissa wondered out loud.

"Curiouser and curiouser." James said.

"You guys," Bertram said. "This is really starting to scare me."

They all looked at Professors McGonagall and Snape.

"_Let's all be gooooood_!" Snape boomed suddenly.

'_Gooooood Little Wizards!_

_Gooooood Little Wizards!_

_Good good good good...."_

"Noooooo!" Bertram moaned, clapping his hands over his ears.

'_Lying, thieving, rude little plonkers!_

_Are BAD Little Wizards!_

_Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad! Baaaaad..."_

"Ah, that's better," Bertram sighed, removing his hands.

'_We must be polite and TIDY!_

_And read the Book of Morals every day!_

_We must never do anything we like_

_And eat nothing but oats and hayyyy!'_

Without realizing it, the three listeners were drawn into the song.

Soon, they too were singing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lord Gobblygoop was quite at sea.

"The waves are so pretty...." He murmured to himself.

"THE WARTKILLER WON!" Marcus Haze and Lucy Boppins screamed from in front of the television.

Lord Gobblygoop was startled out of his world of pretty waves, back into the real one.

Where he was currently struggling to get his Big Scary Death Bandits to LISTEN to him.

"Off with the television!" he snarled.

"Off with his head! Off with his head!" chanted the Hopple twins.

"Shut up!" Lord Gobblygoop stood up, glaring menacingly around at them.

His eye fell upon Bilius Bibblehead, who was struggling to pull on his dripping trousers.

He had finished washing them and they were now even wetter than they were before.

"Bilius! Clothe yourself as befits one of my Big Scary Death Bandits!" Lord Gobblygoop shouted.

"His TROUSERS are WET," said Girl Hopple, distastefully.

"YOU'RE all wet," said Boy Hopple.

"They're all wrinkly," Bilius explained. "I really should iron them. I need to iron my hair too."

"I CURLED mine!" Lucy Boppins proudly displayed her head of frizzy curls.

"The Wartkiller has straight hair," Marcus Haze told her.

Lucy Boppins promptly began to cry noisily.

The Hopple twins danced around her, shouting

"Off with her head! Off with her head!"

"Woe is me! I am woe!" Bilius sang sadly, still trying unsuccessfully to pull on his trousers.

Lord Gobblygoop could see that they were not looking at him with awe and agog.

"LOOK AT ME WITH AWE AND AGOG!" he bellowed.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, looking blank.

"Are you drunk?" asked Lucy Boppins.

"Yes, maybe just a little bit," admitted Lord Gobblygoop.

"But my faithful Death Bandits!" he went on, "We need to break into Hogwarts! Who's got a plan?"

"Me! Me!" cried Bilius Bibblehead.

He pulled out something from the pocket of his wet robes.

"That's just a bit of paper," Lord Gobblygoop said dismissively.

Bilius Bibblehead pushed his glasses up his nose and read,

"_Can I come in, please?"_

And he disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Yet another chapter written!

Flitwick: Yeeees. _Written._

Author : What are you on about now, Flitwick?

Flitwick: Yeeees. _Flitwick._

Author : Have a pill.

Flitwick: Mmmmmm!

Author : I must now take my leave of ye. But before I vanish, I want to give my very best thanks to: FlamezFlyer, Mae-Yean, Eihwaz and Lourdaise Pheonixrising5, and sara d. I do beg ye all to call again. Because it just isn't the same without you.

Flitwick: Farewell! _Yeeees. _


End file.
